Sex and Cocktails
by Bella7
Summary: CSI50 prompt 34: Sex. "Personally I think Horatio Caine would be a very gifted lover."


AN: Based on collected conversations from my friends

**Prompt 34-Sex**

"Sex."

Everyone stopped and looked in Valera's direction.

"I'm sorry?" Calleigh asked, setting her Bloody Mary down on the table.

"Sex," Valera shrugged. "We needed something to talk about," she shrugged again. "Let's talk about sex."

"I didn't know we were that close," Natalia commented dryly, signaling the waiter for another round of cocktails.

"I didn't know we were that out of things to talk about," Calleigh said, biting her lower lip.

"Well, we are. I'm bored to tears." Valera drained her margarita and pushed the empty glass to the end of the booth. "So…sex."

"What about it?" Natalia asked.

"Well, I was just thinking today, about the case and that girl with all the X..."

"Yeah," Natalia sighed with a shake of her head, "your first time is supposed to be something you'll remember…not how people remember you."

"At least Alexx said she was probably so buzzed she didn't realize what was going on," Calleigh remarked. "Which, sadly, is a comfort."

"Right," Valera agreed, "which is what got me thinking about how _god-awful _my first time was." She gratefully accepted a fresh margarita from the waiter. "I mean, everyone always talks about how awful it was…but this was really, really bad."

Natalia quirked an eyebrow; she shared a look with Calleigh. "All right," she shrugged, "I'll bite. What happened?"

"The monsignor caught us."

Calleigh raised her eyebrows. "The monsignor? Where were you—church camp?" she asked bringing her glass to her lips.

"The seminary."

Calleigh choked and set her drink down. "I'm sorry…the seminary? As in…a school for priests?"

"There was one in my town; it was only a few miles from where I grew up," Valera shrugged nonchalantly.

"So your first time was with a priest?" Natalia asked in disbelief.

"He hadn't taken Orders yet."

"So? Don't they take a vow of celibacy?"

"Not until later," she looked between the two of them, "look, you're missing the point."

"I don't know, Valera," Calleigh shook her head with a smile, "I think I'm getting the point loud and clear."

"The bad part wasn't that he was in the seminary," Valera explained emphatically. "The _bad _part was that we were walked in on by the monsignor, he got kicked out of the priesthood, and all I got was the most guilt-ridden thirty eight seconds of my life."

There was a small, stunned silence. "Thirty eight seconds, huh?" Natalia asked, suppressing a smile.

"At the time, they were also the most passionate and erotic thirty eight seconds of my life. But yes," she sighed nostalgically, "thirty eight seconds."

"That's quite a coming of age tale you've got there, Valera," Calleigh laughed softly to herself.

"Well…?" she looked at her two co-workers expectantly.

"Well what?" the blonde asked, a feeling of discomfort worming its way into her stomach.

"I'm not sharing a story like that without getting something in return!" Valera looked from one to the other. "Story-time! Go."

Natalia shrugged. "Mine's nothing like yours, thank God," she added as an afterthought. "I don't know, I was fifteen…with my boyfriend at the time…it lasted about three minutes before I decided I hated everything about it and made him take me home."

Valera let out a bark-like laugh. "How long did the relationship last after that?"

"Too long," Natalia rolled her eyes. "Although, I did borrow my mom's shirt that night…and I felt so guilty I almost burned it. But it was her favorite shirt…so I just tried to avoid her every time she wore it after that."

Their wave of girlish giggles was cut short when Valera's eyes strayed to the door. She waved wildly for a moment, a big smile pushing its way onto her face. Calleigh followed her gaze and found Eric and Ryan making their way through the crowd.

They each squeezed in on opposite sides of the booth—Eric next to Calleigh, Ryan next to Valera. "Sorry we're late ladies," the latter apologized with a smile.

"Not at all," Calleigh assured him.

"You seemed to be enjoying yourselves," Eric commented as he shrugged out of his jacket, his arm brushing against Calleigh's as he did so. "Anything you'd like to share?"

The blonde shrugged coyly. "Nothin' but a little girl talk."

"We were comparing first time stories," Valera said bluntly.

Calleigh rolled her eyes; so much for coy and mysterious when Valera was involved. She felt Eric's eyes on her. "What?" she asked, meeting his gaze.

"Nothing," he grinned, backing off. "Just seems like an interesting topic."

"Well that depends," Ryan countered. "It _could_ be interesting; or it could just be horrifically embarrassing."

"Anything you feel like fessing up to?" Natalia teased, enjoying this new sense of playfulness and comradery that they'd all fallen into.

"Uh, let's see here," Ryan tilted his head down and squeezed the bridge of his nose. "I was…twenty years old…a junior at BU—"

"Wow, you were _twenty_?" Valera asked incredulously.

Ryan gave her a serious look. "I know, it's difficult to believe I was not always this smooth."

Eric chucked but said nothing.

"Anyway," Wolfe continued after a pointed look in Delko's direction, "I was a junior at BU and it was with Dr. Robinson—my organic chemistry professor."

"Really?" Valera suddenly seemed impressed. "You did it with your professor?"

"And her name was really Dr. Robinson?" asked Natalia.

"Dr. Rachel Robinson," Ryan smiled proudly. He grabbed Valera's drink and raised it in a mock toast. "Here's to you."

"Now that's a story," Eric said with a hint of pride in his voice.

"Not like you don't have them," Ryan challenged.

"Hey, we're not going there."

"C'mon, Delko—at least give us the first time rundown," Valera egged him on, subtly taking her drink from Ryan's fingers.

"Jesus, I don't even…" Eric shook his head. "I don't even know if I remember."

"You don't remember?" Calleigh asked in disbelief. "Not even how old you were?"

"No," he said with a shrug, "not really."

"You've just been screwin' all your life, huh?" she asked, giving him a playful nudge in the ribs.

"Yeah, I don't know. Guess it wasn't that memorable."

The conversation continued on for some time after that, turning quickly from a game of past experiences to a rather immature version of Would You Rather.

"Natalia: Tripp or Tyler?" Ryan asked, gulping the beer he'd ordered himself.

"Tripp," Natalia said almost instantly. "Tyler's clumsy." The table snickered before Natalia chose a victim. "Calleigh: Horatio or Stetler?"

Calleigh's eyes widened. "I don't really know," she answered honestly. "I mean, I love Horatio to death but he's so much like a father figure…but then Stetler is just so…"

"Calleigh, c'mon!" Valera barked—her fourth margarita kicking in. "It's supposed to be quick answer—it's the only way you get to the truth."

"Oh, fine," she rolled her eyes, "I guess Horatio."

"Daddy issues…" Natalia said quietly.

"Hey hey hey," Ryan put up a hand. "Leave her alone—it's a personal choice. Although I do think she picked the right one. I bet Horatio is a very gifted lover."

There was a silence that fell over the table just long enough for everyone to take a deep breath. And then everyone erupted in laughter.

"Ryan, do me a favor," Valera gasped, wiping at her eyes. "Never again mention Horatio's skills—experienced or speculated—as a lover again."

Still a charming shade of crimson, Ryan nodded. "Not a problem."

"Y'know," Calleigh began thoughtfully as she caught her breath, "they say CSIs make the best lovers."

"And why is that?" Eric asked, suddenly intrigued.

"They pay more attention to detail, not afraid to take their time," she raised her eyebrows at him and offered a wicked grin.

"I should really keep that in mind," Valera said, leaning forward with interest. "You never find anything all that satisfying with DNA…usually just a bunch of nerds."

"On _that _note," Natalia glanced down at her watch, "I think we'd better call it a night, guys. I don't know about you but six a.m comes _very _early for this chick."

They broke up then, shrugging into light jackets, settling bar tabs and rummaging for car keys all with the promise to see one another at work the next morning and with an unspoken agreement that this conversation had never happened.

"Which way are you?" Eric asked when they got outside. The air was cooler—less sticky. Fall, or what little Miami saw of it, was definitely on the way.

"I'm this way," Calleigh pointed left down the block.

"Me too," he smiled down at her. "Would you mind an escort?"

"Well normally I'd go out of my way to act all empowered but," she yawned around her heavy Southern accent, "it's late and I'm tired. So yes, I would love an escort."

"You never shared your story," he said suddenly, breaking a comfortable silence that had settled over them.

"What story?"

"Y'know, your first time."

"Oh," Calleigh waved it away. "Hardly a story—freshman year of college, first guy who really took an interest…y'know, nothing special."

"Nothing special at all?"

She shook her head with a twinge of regret. "Not really. Looking back I probably should have waited longer for someone I really cared about but," she shrugged, "lessons learned."

"At least there's that." They lapsed into silence again; Calleigh looped her arm through his and rested her tired head on his shoulder. "So Horatio, huh?"

Calleigh laughed. "Oh shut up."

"Nah, it's okay. I'd pick him over Stetler too."

"Well there's an image," she giggled as her car came into view.

"Valera or Natalia?" he asked suddenly, steering her toward the curb.

"I am not _even _going to give you the pleasure of that response."

"So, Natalia then?" he asked, a smile working itself onto his lips.

Calleigh shook her head and laughed. "That was fun," she sighed, leaning against the passenger side of the car.

"Yeah, it was. I don't know why the five of us don't hang out more often."

She shrugged. "Because we all work eighteen hours a day."

"You've got a point."

"Well," Calleigh jingled her keys. "I have a kitty to feed and a bathtub to be soaking in. I will see you tomorrow." She made her way to the other side of the car before she looked down the empty street. "Eric, did your car get stolen?"

"Nah," he looked embarrassed for a moment. "It's about three blocks that way," he pointed in the direction from where they'd just come.

"I thought you said it was over here."

"I lied," he shrugged. "I didn't want you to have to walk by yourself."

Calleigh rolled her eyes. "Get in, I'll drive you to your car."

The short jaunt was spent fiddling with the radio and the heater, positioning the vents, adjusting mirrors and seats. They had almost reached his car before he said anything.

When he did, it was quiet—almost to himself. "Audriana Herrara."

Calleigh looked at him. "I'm sorry?"

"Her name was Audriana Herrara—she was my first real girlfriend. We were seventeen, after the prom we did the whole stereotype—hotel room, candles, bubble bath…the whole nine." He smiled to himself. "It was great."

Calleigh pulled up next to his car with a smile. "I knew you didn't forget. Why didn't you say anything?"

"Why didn't you?"

She shrugged. "Mine isn't a good story."

"Yeah, well," he looked down at his hands, "neither was mine. It was just a good experience."

"I beg to differ."

"Oh, really?"

She looked thoughtful for a moment. "See, I never thought of you as a romantic—puts things in a little different perspective. So yeah, I thought it was a good story."

"Hey, wait a minute. Where do you get off saying I'm not romantic?"

She shrugged. "I'm just saying, it's not the first adjective that comes to mind when I think of you, that's all."

Before she could say another word, Eric leaned over and captured her lips with his. He heard a small sound of surprise before she returned the sentiment, one hand coming up to rest tentatively on his cheek.

She pulled away first. "Eric, Eric we can't…"

"Yeah," he sighed, trying to hide his disappointment. "I thought you might say that. Still," a grin appeared on his face. "Change your opinion a little?"

"That wasn't romance," she scoffed, "that was impulse." Realizing that may have come out hurtful, Calleigh rephrased. "Nice impulse…but impulse nonetheless."

Eric rolled his eyes and brought her fingers to his lips. "Well then you just stick around, Miss Duquesne. Because you ain't seen nothing yet."

x0x0x

When she opened her front door the next morning, it was to three dozen pink tulips and a card that read "Pink always was your favorite color."

Calleigh rolled her eyes and placed the roses on her kitchen table. Cubano—still far too tiny to jump up—peered at them curiously. "He's complicating things," she said to him, bustling toward the coffee maker for a warm-up in her travel mug. Cubano mewed noncommittally. "You always take his side," she grumbled.

Still, Calleigh found herself staring fondly at the flowers. They _were_ beautiful. And pink _was _her favorite color—though she didn't wear it all that often.

She sighed, fighting off the cynic in her head. Maybe romance wasn't all that dead after all.

--

A touch of shippiness for my fellow hiphuggers. I tried to keep everyone as 'in-character' as possible. Just keep in mind, they're off the clock and they'd all been drinking a little bit.

R/R?


End file.
